Taking on the big boys
by John T. Rehorn David Drake?s middle name must be Stealth. As a craftsman in wood or natural plaster, he?ll surprise you with his meticulous creativity without talking too much about it. He?s that way with mountain biking, too. Maybe that?s why he slipped past the radar of local sports reporters once again this summer when he won the Durango MTB 100, riding an eight-minute cushion over his nearest competitor, mountain bike pro Mitch Moreman. But this was no fluke ? Drake took honors the previous year in the same race, and little more than a month earlier he won the Iron Horse Cross-Country Classic (men?s expert), all with scant local attention. With the plethora of pedaling men-in-tights zipping through Durango streets or area single-track, it?s easy to see how one of them might go unnoticed. But now that he?s packing up for New Zealand with wife Jennie and 4-month-old son, Mica, it?s time he got a little recognition for his feats on the seat . Drake, 34, cut his mountain biking teeth on the hills surrounding Wellington, New Zealand, his childhood home. Though he was 16 before he ever rode, he quickly made up for lost time. Within a year, he was racing, having met a group of mountain bike enthusiasts in his area. They would tour on a shoestring, hitchhiking to racing venues and camping. ?I came in second a lot,? Drake says, laughing. ?A good friend of mine, Jonty Richie, was such a natural talent that it was almost impossible to beat him.? Drake kept his interest in bicycling, but world travel, an enthusiasm for natural home building, and (ack!) family responsibilities all took their toll on his focus as a racer. Drake was living in London in 1998, when he heard about a job in Durango. Ironically, he arrived in this mountain biking mecca with his ride collecting dust on the far side of the earth. ?It?s all good,? Drake would say. Winter was coming, skis could be acquired, and he had scored a job at the St. Paul Lodge on Red Mountain Pass. Could life get any sweeter? Yes. It wasn?t long before he met an American telemarking goddess named Jennie Taylor, a guest at the lodge. It was love at first sight. After a year in Durango, it was back to New Zealand so Jennie could meet the mum, and soon they were a happily married international couple. Four years later, the Taylor-Drakes returned to Durango ... with bikes. In the spring of 2004, with a good deal of training under his belt, Drake took the leap and entered his first American mountain bike race, the Iron Horse Cross-Country Classic. Could he step from Jonty Richie?s shadow and capture the yellow jersey ... er ... beer cup? He could and he did, winning first place in the expert category of his age group. The win gave him the confidence to train for the 2004 Durango MTB 100. On days off work, he?d ride to Silverton ... and back! ... to work on cardio and endurance. The 100-mile race includes more than 18,000 feet of climbs and descents, and Drake spent countless hours on the course itself to take hometown advantage. By mid-July, he felt conditioned enough not to make a fool of himself. Instead, he won the thing. By this time, his friends were convinced he wasn?t from New Zealand, but Mount Olympus. But challenges lay ahead. Jennie announced her pregnancy, and their priorities took a turn toward diapers, not derailleurs. Drake entered the Iron Horse XC this spring and came in a respectable third. Two-week-old Mica was there with Jennie to cheer Daddy on. No one said anything, but all wondered if Drake?s glory light had shown its brightest and fatherhood would be the dimming of it.
But Drake knew what others didn?t: He was going to train as hard as life would let him for the 2005 MTB 100, that is, if Jennie would allow it. ?I asked her, ?Are you prepared to put up with me training?? And she was like, ?Yep, I?ll support you.? And she did.? His buddies sensed his determination and did what they could to heighten expectations. ?That?s one of the things that was driving me crazy. Everyone was saying, ?Ah, are you going to win the 100-mile race this year??? To his chagrin, Mr. Stealth had shown up on a few radar screens. Yet despite last year?s results, word on the street was that it was professional racer Mitch Moreman?s race to win or lose. Race day was met with clouds and rain. In mountain bike math, they add up to one thing: mud. Drake kissed goodbye the $500 bonus offered by race sponsors to break the nine-hour barrier. In training, his best time on each of the three loops added up to under nine hours. But that was on nice, hard single-track. All that aside, the mud was sure to add mountains of pain to each grueling mile. The first two laps were mean but doable. It was the third that separated the men from the boys. Drake had his moment of doubt. ?Going up for the last time was one of the hardest things I?ve ever done in my life. The weather was so bad ? thunder and lightning and rain. I thought, ?What the hell am I doing? I?ve got another three hours.? Yet I knew the only way I wouldn?t finish was if they brought me home in an ambulance, or I broke my bike.? Off he rode past the aroma of hamburgers grilling over open flames and the sight of spectators sipping Fat Tires rather than riding them. Drake took a peek over his shoulder and saw the one man who could beat him, Moreman, hounding him up the trail. An hour and a half later, his thighs two ingots of lead, Drake was caught and passed. Within minutes, he was beginning to lose sight of Moreman around bends in the trail. It seemed as though a family man would be a family man and a racing pro would taste victory ? but only as long as it took for Drake to muster a bit of insanity. ?I don?t know what came over me, but I just got this rush of adrenaline or determination or something, and just took off like a madman.? Drake caught his man on a flat. When they got to the downhill, all those hours of course training paid off. ?I had that downhill dialed. I virtually knew every rock and corner so I could really fly. I probably shouldn?t have ridden as fast as I did because of family responsibilities and lack of health insurance, but something possesses you at times like that.? He created a big enough gap that Moreman just couldn?t close it. It was a good thing, because Drake was on the edge of bonking. ?I thought I was grinding to a standstill, I was in so much pain,? he said. ?I thought there was no way I could hold him off.? Luckily for Drake, Moreman had also run out of gas, and the brand-new papa pedaled across the finish line to win his second 100-miler. And that?s his story. Now that he?s shown up on your radar screen, you might say to him, ?Well done!? before he leaves. It may or may not be his last best race, but he would tell you his best story will be raising his boy with Jennie. And for those who know the Drakes already ? yes, they will miss us. ?It?s a really hard thing to leave because we?ve made so many good friends here,? Drake says. ?But it?s not like we won?t be coming back. We?re not going to Mars. I think with good friends, it doesn?t matter where you are. The fact that you?re halfway across the world doesn?t make you less of a friend.? ? |